


egg twink

by captorvatiing



Series: egg twink [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Eggs, First Dates, Fluff, Humanstuck, M/M, Memes, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captorvatiing/pseuds/captorvatiing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="dirk">BRO: lemme just take a crack here and say that ass aint no yolk</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="dirk">BRO: i’d like to see it sunny side up ;)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>Getting a date through Grindr is not classy and sure, Denny's is not exactly the ritz but there's no way it can be as bad as the last date Si went on. Featuring one mention of bukkake, two ill advised snapchats and a series of increasingly poorly eggsecuted puns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	egg twink

“You cannot be serious.”

You are, actually. You just look up from your phone and shrug. Diana is laughing too hard to really participate in the conversation but Kankri is looking at you like he’s concerned you might have a concussion. You’ve agreed to meet a man from Grindr who’s profile implies he works in porn, so you suppose his reaction is kind of understandable. Grindr dude seems like a nice guy though, and you’re about ninety three percent sure that he’s not an axe murderer and you haven’t been on an actual date with a stranger since that awkward dinner you had with Ms. Pyrope when Sollux was in fourth grade so you figure, what do you have to lose? 

Actually that last point might be a pretty good reason for him to be looking at you funny. Scratch that.

The guy messaged you first, which was surprising since Kankri had changed your bio to just say “egg twink” with a picture of you sneezing in retaliation for the meme bio you’d created for him. Originally you’d both installed the app so you could one up Diana in your ongoing game of fuckboy bingo, a move she’d declared as cheating since she thinks Grindr attracts a special breed of crazy that Tinder can’t really compete with. You tend to agree, but as you repeatedly insist -

“This one’s different!” 

Famous last words. 

You’re supposed to be meeting him in half an a hour at Denny’s which is, again, not a super awesome point towards your overall sanity but it makes sense in context. No, really, it does. You swear. 

The context looks a little like this.

  
BRO: lemme just take a crack here and say that ass aint no yolk  
BRO: i’d like to see it sunny side up ;)  
YOU:   
  
YOU: ;)  
BRO: woah  
BRO: i hope you like your eggs benedickt  


And so on, until it escalated into you searching Denny’s tumblr for weird egg related gifs at two in the morning and by that point it was either agree to the date or admit defeat and like fuck if you were going to fold. 

Hmm, fold. There’s a scrambled joke in there somewhere, gotta remember that for later.

“Technically.” You say, as you steal Kankri’s car keys from the bowl by the door. “This is your fault.”

“How is it my fault?!” 

You lift your hands to mime quotes, his keys hooked around one finger. “Egg twink.”

“That-” He falters, jabs a finger at you and frowns. “That got you a hookup? Seriously?”

You grin. “Isn’t it eggstrordinary?”

Diana makes a noise like a cat going into labour and almost falls out of her chair. You take the distraction as your cue to leave and blow her a kiss as you duck out of the door. Kankri calls after you,

“Be _safe,_ Si!” 

“I will! Love you byeee!” 

You can still hear Diana snorfling when you shut the front door.

Denny’s is, well. It’s Denny’s. The parking lot is lit with harsh floodlights and populated with the kind of cars that suggest that you’re the oldest guy here. You lean on the hood of Kankri’s car and light up a smoke while you wait. The guy sent you the douchiest bathroom mirror selfie you have ever seen, complete with “subtle” condoms in view on the counter, but he doesn’t really know what you look like so it’s on you to find him. At least if he _does_ turn out to be a creeper you’ll have a free ticket to Nopesville. You’re on your last drag and wondering if you’ve been stood up, or if you should go inside and look for him there when a truck somehow douchier than the one you saw two kids wearing shorts and boat shoes pour out of earlier pulls up a few spaces across. It’s ridiculously big and polished to a shine, there’s old school rap music coming from the open window and stickers all over the sides. You roll your eyes and ready yourself to avoid this blatant mommy’s boy when the door opens and your date jumps out.

In hindsight you’re not actually sure why you’re surprised. 

He looks every bit as douchey as he did in his picture, but older than you would have guessed. Careful lighting hid what his hat cannot and he’s clearly balding around the edges. Unfortunately careful lighting could not fabricate the fact that he’s wearing pointy anime shades in real life, at seven pm in the middle of October, or the fact that the shirt he’s wearing almost makes you wish that he wasn’t wearing one at all. You pinch your cigarette butt in a moment of indecision before flicking it in the opposite direction and turning towards him.

“You know meeting me at Denny’s makes me look kind of over easy.” You say, and it sounds exactly as awful and rehearsed as it is. 

He laughs anyway, wanders over and holds out his hand. “You must be my mystery egg.”

Shaking his hand feels weirdly formal, like this is a business transaction - that’ll be several rare egg related memes for one cheeky blowjob in the Denny’s bathroom, thank you very much for your custom, sir, see you never - but you do it anyway. His handshake is rough and he tops it off with a stupid little head nod. If he doesn’t turn out to be some hypermasculine dudebro top you’ll eat your own ass. 

You take a booth and order eggs, because you’re determined to keep the joke going but also because you’re broke as fuck and you have no idea how he wants to split the bill. This is starting to feel like one of your more terrible ideas and you fucking hate proving Kankri right so when your date - Dirk, he said, “butchoo can call me bro ;)” - orders two beers without asking you, you just nod and hand your menu back to the waitress. 

“So, do you want me to keep making up egg jokes or do you have a pseudonym?” 

“Huh? Oh! Oh shit, yeah. I’m Simon.” You say. “It’s Dirk, right?” 

“The one and only. So- Thanks.” He nods to the waitress as she leaves your drinks. “So I gotta ask. What’s the story behind the egg thing?” 

You snort into your beer. “It’s not as good a story as you want it to be.” 

He shrugs and tips the neck of his bottle towards you.

“Heh, fine. I have two partners, Kankri and Di, and we have a competition going for who can get the worst dates.”

“Oh really.”

You laugh. “Your method of seduction was egg puns, don’t act like you’re surprised. Anyway Tinder’s kind of a het paradise so Di was winning purely off unsolicited dick pics. Me and Kankri both got on Grindr to try and level the field. Since we weren’t planning on using it for real, we agreed to set up each other’s profiles.”

“And thus the egg twink was born.” 

“Oh, oh no.” You laugh. “He wrote this really heartfelt bio saying I was smart and easy going and all this crap. Shit was so sincere it was almost ironically funny.”

“Really?”

“It had a filtered candid of me laughing.”

“Wow.” 

“Yep.” 

Dirk takes a swig from his beer and shoots the waitress another nod and a thumbs up as she loads your food onto the table. You smile weakly at her as she bustles away and when you turn back he’s leaning forwards on his elbows, eagerly awaiting the rest of the story. 

“So, what did you write for him?” He says.

“If there were two guys on the moon and one killed the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what?” You grin and start loading your eggs with hot sauce. “And a lovingly rendered photo of him with a lenny face.”

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking because he’s still wearing his shades but he nods his head at your plate, leans back in his seat and says, “Didn’t know you were so saucy.” 

This time you actually do choke on your beer. 

“Egg twink was revenge, am I right?” He says. You nod as you awkwardly push up your glasses so you can wipe your eyes. “On a scale of one to very how pissed is he that it got you a date?” 

“Left before I could find out. I’m pretty sure he’s saving up the lecture for after I assure him you’re not a weird stalker or anything.” 

“Gotta call home and tell ma you arrived safely?” 

You snort and kick him under the table. “I’m past forty you prick.” You say, but you fiddle with the edge of your phone in your pocket. You _could_ text him to tell him how the date is going. That wouldn’t be totally weird, right? 

The two of you make small talk while you eat, talking about work and movies and other typical first date fare. After a while you fall into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the clink of cutlery and the ambient murmur of the other tables. Dirk calls the waitress over and orders two more beers, a hardboiled egg and a permanent marker, if they have one. Then he turns to you completely straight faced, takes another bite of his burger and says, “You got snapchat?” 

When you tell him you don’t he moves over to your side of the table and your first thought is that this was just a really weird excuse to get handsy but he doesn’t touch you at all. He holds his hand out for your phone and installs the app, tilting the screen to let you see what he’s doing and handing it back for you to set up your account. There’s no question what your user name should be and within a few minutes eggtwink has two contacts - foamass and Snapchat central. It turns out Diana already has an account and she texts you the details with a little confused cat face but no hesitation. Dirk leans a little into your space to help you add her, his arm slung loosely over the back of the booth seat behind you, but still doesn’t touch. You knock your knee against his and grin.

The waitress comes by with your beers and your egg, setting them down on the table and then slowly handing Dirk the pen from her apron as though if she takes longer to pass it over he’ll be struck with the urge to explain, but all she gets back is two innocent closed lip smiles and an enthusiastic, “Why thank you ma’am” from your date. You send Di a blurry picture of the underside of the table - “in the trunk send help” - as Dirk fiddles with something at your elbow and get a picture of her pouting face back calling you an asshole. Snickering, you look over to see what Dirk is up to and find him carefully sketching your face onto the shell of the egg. At least you assume it’s your face. He turns it in his hand to show you and you immediately love it. It’s got little square glasses and sideburns and pouty jellybean kissing lips. He holds it up to his own face and pretends to kiss it and, taking your cue, you snap a picture.

“What should the caption be?” You say.

“Something positive. Rate the date.” 

“I like that you assume I’d give the date a positive rating.”

Something flickers over his face and he hides it behind a swig of beer. “It’s your call.”

You send the snap with the caption “eggscellent date so far” and drop your phone onto the table to wait for her reply. Dirk doesn’t say anything. Maybe you pissed him off with your shitty rating joke, it wouldn’t be surprising. You are incredibly skilled at pissing people off and fucking shit up just as you’re starting to enjoy yourself. 

The first snap you get back is a three second video of Diana ass up on the floor, her face screwed up in hysterics, muttering “eggscellent!” over and over again between fits of ear piercing giggles. The second snap is a selfie of Kankri flipping you the bird. 

Dirk slides back into his seat with a smug little smirk and the waitress, summoned by the sound of unholy shrieking coming from your phone returns to offer dessert. True to form you continue to make a complete ass of yourself. 

“Oh, uh.” You glance at Dirk and grimace. "I. No?"

"We'll get the bill then, ma'am."

There's an awkward silence until she comes back. You have no idea what the etiquette for this is. Is he waiting for you to offer to pay? Should you start calculating how much you spent? You're running the bill against your budget in your head with a deepening sense of regret when he pulls out a card and hands it to her without looking. He must notice you staring, you're not exactly being subtle but he doesn't even emote, just leans back with his arm hooked over the back of the seat and drains the dregs of his beer. A meal for two at Denny's is admittedly not breaking the bank but just handing over your card without looking at the bill is something you haven't been able to do since you had Meenah's platinum in your wallet. 

"If I knew you were paying I'd have got desert!" You say, and your laugh comes out a little more forced than you wanted it too. His face stays completely blank and your smile morphs into a grimace.

He hums. You're starting to feel uncomfortably exposed under that tinted glass stare. 

"I uh. Kidding." You mumble.

He pushes his shades up with one hand and gets up. Fuck, you've screwed this up for sure. Oh well. You're not sure when you started caring anyway. Wasn't this supposed to be just a stupid joke date? You see him leaning over the waiting station to talk to your waitress who laughs and looks round him to where you're sitting. The booth doesn't open up to swallow you into the ground where you belong, which is inconvenient, so you debate sneaking out before he comes back instead.

You don't run away. When he comes back he's smiling, or at least you think he's smiling but it’s so hard to tell, it's infuriating. You're about to ask him about the shades, maybe see if he’ll take them off, when your waitress shows up with a large glass full of something ominously yellow. 

"Oh my God." You say.

It's a sundae. It's a sundae styled like a fucking egg.

Dirk produces two spoons from behind his back and tips his hat as the waitress skips away.

"Dirk." You say.

"Yes?"

"You-" You laugh, a little hysterical as the tower of paranoia you were building up topples over. "Dirk."

He presents one of the long handled spoons to you with both hands like a sword and smiles for real. You take it and wait for him to take the first bite before you join him. It’s good, just the right amount of far too much sugar, exactly how you like it. The whole thing is towered precariously over the top of the glass and drizzled with hot caramel and something sticky sweet that almost tastes like honey. 

Wait.

"Dirk." You say again the edge of panic sneaking back into your voice. "Is this honey?"

"Yeah it's-” He looks up from the ice cream and grimaces. “You're allergic aren't you."

You laugh and nod. Oh God. "I don’t have my meds." You say, rather more calmly than the situation warrants.

In his defense he handles it remarkably well. He leaves his card with the waitress for the bill and gives her the licence of your car (how did he remember that?) which she agrees to watch for you before hefting your arm over his shoulder and half carrying you to his truck. It’s completely unnecessary but the gesture is sweet anyway so you lean into him a little as you walk. He checks the pockets of your jacket when you’re sat in his truck and finds nothing but lint, just like you said. Apparently satisfied that you are not in fact trying to escape the date by way of untreated anaphylactic shock he plugs his iPhone into the dash and pulls up directions to the nearest hospital. 

You get there ridiculously fast because he speeds the entire way. It would bother you, but you’re busy trying to convince your sack of shit brain that an allergic reaction is not going to kill you and this is actually a pretty terrible time to have a panic attack and go into hysterics. If you died for the sake of an egg related meme you’d probably off your ghost out of shame. 

The hospital drugs you up and gives you a glass of water and leaves you and your embarrassment to sit in the waiting room alone. Dirk comes and sits next to you with his elbows on his knees.

"Sorry." You say. "Kankri and Di are on their way to sort out the bill so you don't have to hang around."

"I'll wait." He says.

The two of you fall into silence for what feels like a painfully long time.

"You know if-" you start. You hate yourself for even thinking this so you hesitate. "If you're not gonna call and, like, I’m not expecting you to don't get me wrong this was probably the shittiest date in all of paradox space and you probably didn't intend to call anyway, I mean for fucks sake it was a grindr hookup but..." You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Fuck goddamnit I sound like a high school girl. I swear I’m not stressing out about you wanting to meet again I'm just. I really don't want Kankri to see-"

"To see what?" Says Kankri.

Your head snaps up and you see him marching down the corridor towards you with a concerned twist to his mouth and a determined crease between his brow. Di is just behind him with a nervous looking Sollux at her elbow. You turn to them and ignore Kankri’s question completely.

"Sollux?? What the fuck?"

"He wanted to make sure you were okay!" Says Di at the same time as Sollux says,

"I had to get my meds."

"You could have just called, idiot. You didn't have to come all the way here."

"Mmm, he could have done that but then he wouldn't have seen if you were okay." Di grins. "Si always was a terrible liar, its funny how alike you are really." She reaches over to punch Sollux in the arm and he shoves his hands deeper in his pockets and forces a scowl on to his face.

"That's all very cute but he hasn't actually told us of he's okay or not." Says Kankri. He's standing directly in front of you with his hands hovering by his stomach like a child who's been told not to touch. You reach up and grab one and he visibly relaxes.

"I'm fine." You say and he frowns deeper. "Don't give me that look."

"You always say you’re fine."

"And sometimes I am really, actually fine. I'm not going to die of a minor allergic reaction Kankri, it's 2015."

"That doesn't mean you're _fine_!" He pouts, but he runs his thumb along your knuckles and takes a step to the side so Di can get at you. 

"So who's your friend?" She says.

Shit you almost forgot about Dirk. 

"You're the grindr guy, aren't you?" Says Kankri.

"Grindr guy?" Says Sollux.

Di laughs and you hope really hard for the second time tonight that the stained linoleum will tear asunder and swallow you into the ground. 

"Dirk Strider." He says, standing up and holding out a hand. "You must be Kankri," he shakes Kankri’s hand and then holds a hand out to Di. "And Di, right? Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"Oooh ma'am." She says, shaking his hand. "I like him already."

"I wouldn't be too sure,” he says. “I did apparently poison your boyfriend."

"I said I like you, I didn't say we were even." She grins with all her pretty teeth and you stand up to get between them. Kankri is on your arm in an instant and you don't need him to help but you know from experience it’s easier to just let him than to argue.

You put your free hand in Di’s face and lightly push her away. "Okaaay we're done here." You turn to Sollux. "Are we done here?"

He lifts up his prescription bag and shoots you a lazy thumbs up.

"That your kid?" Says Dirk and you grimace. Meet the family is not what you signed up for. 

"DeeDee meet Dirk, he's a weird guy from grindr. Dirk meet my dear sweet baby boy, DeeDee." You deadpan.

"It's Dee _and_ Dee you scrublord, not DeeDee and Mituna's not here." Sollux says. "If you're going to be a dick at least get it right."

"Nice to meet you too, Sollux." Says Dirk. "Dee Dee as in Delia and Deidre right? Quinn's spawn."

"Yeah. Cause we're twins." Sollux rolls his eyes behind his shades, exaggerating the movement of his eyebrows. "If you make an anime joke I'm contractually obligated to break your gaming fingers."

"Oh my God I just realised where the fucking shades are from." You interrupt and stare at Dirk, suddenly seeing your date in a whole new light. "But you're so." Beefy? White trash tastic? You gesture to the entire douchey length of him.

"Sugoi?" He says.

"I'm leaving." Says Kankri. 

You burst out laughing. When Kankri worms out from under your arm you reach out to pat Dirk’s bicep. “No.” You say, and then nudge him forwards when he starts to protest. “Come on.”

The five of you walk through the hospital in relatively good spirits after that. Sollux leads the group with the impatient shuffle that only teenagers and pensioners can achieve and Dirk and Diana start talking animatedly. You hear the phrase “pixelated bukkake” and ollie the fuck out, falling back to walk in step with Kankri. He’s watching Di talk with a wistful smile on his face and you would think he hadn’t noticed you if he didn’t knock the back of his hand against yours and thread your fingers together. Di’s laughter echoes in the empty corridor and Sollux keeps glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re still following. You feel warm, and not just because of the itching. 

Outside Sollux disappears into Diana’s loser cruiser, (“It’s a practical car! We have three kids between us!”) and Kankri and Di make a paltry effort at pretending like they’re giving you and Dirk some space for your awkward goodbye. The two of you hug under the white hospital lights and make empty sacrifices to the social norm.

“Had a good night-” You say.

He rubs his hand through the back of his thinning hair. “Sorry about the-” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” 

“See you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” 

“Bye.”

“...Bye.”

It’s almost painful to turn away and not the kind of painful people write about in novels. 

Di rates your exit a two out of twelve, which is impressive because when Pyrope threw her drink over you and you showed up at home with spritzer in your hair she’d given you a four.

They grill you in the car but you sit in the back with Sollux and make weak excuses not to talk about it yet. It might just be that you went into this date with catastrophically low expectations but you did have a good night, he was more fun than you’d expected and nicer too. He’d driven you to the hospital and joked around with your family for fucks sake, that’s so above and beyond hookup app duty it’s discovering new, alien hookup apps in space. You stare out of the window of the car at the street lights whizzing past like the heroine in a bad romance fic. 

When you pull into Denny’s Dirk’s truck is parked just ahead of you. Of course it is, he left his stuff here too. Jesus, why are you such a moron? You thank Di for driving and kiss her on the cheek before you hop out of the van. The universe, as always, conspires to make things as awkward as possible by having Dirk come back to his truck right that second. 

You stop with your hand on the handle of the car door.

You had a good night. He poisoned you with honey and talked about bukkake and he wore his fucking anime shades the _entire time_ and you had a _really_ good night.

You let go of the car door and turn around to find him right behind you. With one uncharacteristically decisive step forwards you close the gap, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to drag him into a kiss. He apparently had the exact same idea because he reaches up to drag you down by the back of the neck and your glasses get squashed together between you, knocking them askew to dig uncomfortably into the wonky hook of your nose. The kiss is quick and rough and when you open your eyes to pull back his eyes are such a bright hazel that they almost pass for orange.

The sound of Di honking the car horn makes you jump so hard as you pull away that you stumble over your own feet. 

“Kiss him again!” She hollers, leaning her arm out the window.

You laugh and roll your eyes but you do lean back to give him another quick peck on the lips. “Time to go.” You say, and he nods. 

“Call me.” He says, already moving across to his truck. 

You’re grinning like a fucking moron but you manage to shrug as you slide into the driver’s seat. Part of you is furious that you can’t think of an egg pun to part with but that’s just life.

“Yeah,” you say instead, mostly to yourself. “I probably will.”

**Author's Note:**

> [i keep illustrating my own fics because i'm trash](http://dumbledorkus.tumblr.com/post/127100924980)


End file.
